A Reunion, of sorts

[Cptn Swain 0]

The expansive office of the Commanding Officer of the Starfleet Gamma Quadrant Command filled an entire section of the the upper ring, and came complete with an anteroom, reception, and full briefing lounge. The office itself had large floor-to-ceiling windows that bathed the room in the healthy glow of the Avalon. Sitting away from his desk at settee that flanked a richly burled coffee tabled made by one of the colonists, Misha Abronvonvich sighed, as he poured over a report with a cup of tea in hand. His face marked by age and stress was canyoned with deep wrinkles that shifted with tectonic force as he perused the reports.

 

"Well," he said outloud. "I guess the Romulans will be happy."

 

Sitting across from him, Alexander Calypsos put down his own reading and lifted his brows. Though they'd initially spent little time together, giving the other plenty of room to operate in their own sphere, he and his commanding officer had taken to having weekly meetings. By meetings, it meant sitting around catching up on reports and having a cup of tea and exorcising some of their mutual frustrations. It was one part business and one part self-therapy and both of their support staff were happy they'd found a way to keep from going crazy.

 

"Oh," Alexander said, knowing that there were any dozen of issues that could potentially please the Romulans and displease the Admiral. "What's happened?"

 

"Remind me," he said, "to smack Ah-Windu if I ever see him again."

 

"Oh," Alexander said in dropped tones. "What now?"

 

"Starbase Lyoneese has been put on hold indefinitely."

 

"That was their pound of flesh?"

 

Misha nodded putting the PADD down and reaching for his tea. It had taken months to get the diplomacy sorted out with the Dominion and then the rest of the Alpha Quadrant powers to approve the construction of a second starbase in the Gamma Quadrant, especially since Starbase Lyoneese would have given the Federation effective control of both termini of the wormhole. And now, out of political expediency that plan was being scrapped.

 

"Isn't it partially built?" Alexander said questioningly.

 

"Almost the entire superstructure is in place," Misha said gruffly. "Now Engineering Corps have been instructed to halt work, with no future date for them to resume. Apparently the Romulans have asked for additional concessions that we're not willing to make just yet."

 

"The politicians do know how much that station would mean in terms of security both for us and the Alpha Quadrant, right? I mean I know it wasn't going to be a big station, but they could have took some of the burden off of us and given convoys and the like a better place to supply from for the mid-range colonies..."

 

"They know," Misha said tersely. "But with the storm Corizon's kicked up and everything else going on, apparently they don't want to push our allies."

 

Alexander shook his head. "Yet weren't they the ones helping run this whole operation."

 

Misha frowned. "Who knows. Its the Romulans we're talking about here. They're almost as hard to get a straight answer out of as a Vulcan -- something about green blood I think."

 

"Well nothing for it then," Alexander said, returning to his padd. "At least they didn't shake up the command structure here, I wasn't really ready to move and I'd just as leave not have to get used to a new commanding officer.

 

"How did you manage that, anyway? If you don't mind me asking," Alexander said over a PADD, careful to remember his place as junior to the Admiral. "I have some friends back at Earth and from what I've heard, they've been cleaning house all over the place -- especially with people who were part of Gamma Command."

 

The white-haired admiral leaned back into the settee, tea cup in his hands. His deep set, blue-eyes danced with a hundred thoughts that Alexander couldn't even begin to imagine.

 

"Carefully," was the one word response.

 

Alexander lifted his brows. "Carefully?"

 

"Captain," Misha said with a small, almost unnoticeable grin. "I've been in the service of Starfleet longer than most of the ships berthed outside. I've fought three wars, buried a brother, and came back twice from retirement to serve the Federation."

 

The Captain nodded. Though he wasn't exactly wet behind the ears, in comparison the Admiral made him look like a freshly promoted ensign. "I see."

 

"The Admiralty took me to task," he admitted. "Whatever his position within ATAG was, Corizon was still under my general command and those blasted weapons were sneaking in here under my watch..."

 

Calypsos frowned. And were being brought aboard his station. "I am honestly surprised that I haven't gotten a call about that..."

 

"Internal affairs will almost certainly get around to it at some point," he said, "though I don't think you have anything to worry about as long as you're honest with them."

 

Running a hand through his auburn hair, Alexander considered that statement for a long moment. Was that supposed to mean something?

 

"At any rate," Misha said. "I was lectured, at length, by the brass."

 

"The brass yelling at the brass," Alexander said with no slight amount of amusement at the thought.

 

"Well it's a little different you know," Misha said, not entirely defensive. "At the end of the day, though, they concluded that given the unstable nature of the Gamma Quadrant it would be unwise to further disrupt the situation with a change of command."

 

"I see. Well I am glad they saw it that way."

 

"Frankly," Misha said, leaning forward to pick up a report. "I am not sure I agree. I knew this job wasn't going to be easy; and it's not that I mind hard work …"

 

He trailed off as his assistant, Lt. Commander Deigo Sands entered. Though he'd be at first rather hesitant, the tall, dark Latino had came into his own earning the trust of Abronvonvich and becoming an indispensable aide as Misha navigated the administrative nightmare that came with what was essentially a large sector command plus.

 

"Admiral, Captain," he said with a nod to both. "You have a visitor."

 

Misha lifted his brows, wondering who had a visitor, especially since he didn't recall any meetings on his schedule; not that the absence of such precluded him from having someone of incredible importance demanding to speak to him on some urgent matter of incredible importance. (That sort of thing would never happen. Ever.)

 

"Oh?"

 

"Yes," Diego said looking to the Admiral. "There's a young lieutenant outside who's asking to see you."

 

Both the Captain and the Admiral lifted their brows. "A lieutenant? Is he commanding a small ship or something?"

 

Diego smirked. "I don't believe so, sir. He requested to see you... said it was a personal matter. I told him you were very busy..."

 

Misha sighed, much to the bemusement of Calypsos who found it rather funny to watch the Admiral deal with such trivial matters as an out of sort lieutenant. This could be the highlight of his day, actually.

 

Diego waited for patiently for the Admiral to reluctantly agree to see the upstart lieutenant who'd apparently decided to take his life (and career) in his hands by bothering the Admiral on a personal mater. After a few choice words, the agreement came and Diego disappeared into the lobby outside the door.

 

Glancing down from his work, Calypsos looked towards the Admiral, doing his absolute best to keep from sounding amused. "If you'd prefer, I'll more than happily let you handle this..."

 

The crag faced Admiral frowned, the deep lines on his face shifting and contorting. "I'd rather you stay."

 

"Oh?"

 

"I'd like there to be a witness..."

 

Calypsos grinned and both men looked to the doorway as the sound of precision pneumatics signaled the upstart had arrived.

 

"Why you son of a bitch..."

 

Calypso blinked.

 

"Come here and give your old man a proper salute."

 

"Is that any way to talk about my mother," the lieutenant said, a near spitting image of what Alexander imagined the Admiral must have looked like at 25.

 

"Your mother," Misha said, "is a scandalous tramp. How is she?"

 

"Good," the lieutenant said. "She said to tell the 'salty, bastard that gave me my good looks' hello."

 

"She was always too kind."

 

The two men paused as the lieutenant saluted before embracing. Though mildly disappointed that he wouldn't get to see the tanning of a lieutenant's hide, seeing a family reunion was always a welcome sight and Alexander stood to meet what was clearly the progeny of his commanding officer.

 

"Ah, sorry Alexander where's my manners..."

 

Demuring, Calypsos simply smiled. "No need, Admiral … I assume this is..."

 

"My youngest son," Misha said, his normally stoic expression replaced by what could only be described as patronymic pride. "Sasha, meet Captain Alexander Calypsos, the stations' command..."

 

"Commanding officer," Sasha said with a grin, extending his hand. "Yes, I know."

 

"Smart boy," Alexander said. "Well, I'll let you two catch up with each other..."

 

Misha nodded. "Have a good afternoon Captain."

 

"Same to you two."

 

--

 

Calypsos took the scenic route to command center, swinging by the commercial deck to grab a pastry from a Kovalinian merchant and glass of jal'al juice. As he entered the command center, he found it to be rather peaceful considering a convoy from Mina Corlain had just arrived and two starships had pulled in for maintenance following a dust up with some raiders out near the Pardol Nebula.

 

Sprint, of course, was handling the situation with aplomb, never raising his voice louder than he needed to be heard and patiently instructing ensign and freighter captain alike.

 

"Yes," Alexander heard him say, "I am sure that your shipment of kuka'li is very important and expensive, but it must go through customs like anything else and it has to be inspected..."

 

Smirking he headed down the ramp to his office where he found his executive officer, John Blair, waiting for him.

 

"I hope you hadn't been waiting long."

 

"Not at all," Blair said with a grin that said he had. Though Calypsos felt fairly sure Blair would have found ways to entertain himself.

 

"This mornings reports," he said handing them over. "I know you were with the Admiral..."

 

"Yes," he said. "Though our usual grouse session was cut a little short."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Yeah. Turns out his son is town."

 

Blair smirked. "He's been assigned to Camelot. I think against his father's better judgement."

 

"That's interesting. Doing what?"

"Security it looks like. According the grapevine he tried to get on Excalibur..."

 

Calypsos couldn't help but lift his brows as he slid into his chair. If there was one thing he'd come to learn about John Blair, it was that he was never short on information that traveled through unofficial channels; he was never entirely sure though, if that was a good thing or not. Still, at least so far, it had never gotten him in any trouble, and had in fact proven to be rather useful.

 

"Well make sure he gets assigned decent shifts. I know how security can be sometimes."

 

"Aye," Blair said. "I'll try to not make it obvious either. Oh, speaking of Excalibur..."

 

"Yes?"

 

"Just got word from Deep Space 9; Excalibur should be here in a couple days."

 

Calypsos nodded as he sorted through the stacks of PADDs on his desk, having a mild realization as to how Blair was always in the loop as it were. "Good," he said. "It will be good to have them back in the quadrant, though how this new Captain turns out..."

 

Nodding and leaning against the window, Blair sighed. "Yeah," he said. "Corizon was a pain in the ass sometimes, but you could count on him when we needed it; and he actually managed to have pretty good relations with the locals. I am sure Semil will be disappointed."

 

"On the other hand," Calypsos said, "perhaps now we can get back to letting the diplomats do their job and us doing ours. Still, I can't say that I am not a little sad to see him go. Man was one hell of a fighter."

 

"Who knows," Blair said looking towards Avalon. "He could be back. Look at Sorehl..."

 

"True," Calypsos said. "He's still running around isn't he?"

 

"Yes," Blair said. "I had lunch with his wife yesterday."

 

"How is the Ambassador?"

 

"Satisfactory."

 

"Vulcans."

 

"They are unique."

 

"You can say that again. Anyway, John, thanks for the reports... and the little tidbit about Sasha Abronvonvich. Keep an eye on him will you. I wouldn't want anything to happen to the Admiral's son."

 

"No problem. I am sure you'll be getting a call anytime now anyway."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Yeah," Blair said moving towards the ramp. "From the looks of the transfer orders, the Admiral didn't know his son had been assigned..."

 

Calypsos frowned, feeling a headache coming on. "Thanks John..."